


The Diary of Adalia, Slave of Rome

by ScriptrixDraconum



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ancient History, Ancient Rome, F/M, Rome - Freeform, Slaves, slave rebellion, slave revolt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptrixDraconum/pseuds/ScriptrixDraconum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Featuring:<br/>The writings of Sermunculus<br/>and<br/>personal correspondences of<br/>The slave Adalia<br/>and her owner<br/>Inusitatia Ostenti<br/>---<br/>Creative writing piece of historical fiction. References to actual historical documents and academic sources are provided.<br/>---<br/>English translations of Latin provided in notes.<br/>---<br/>Disclaimer: This is a work of historical fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of an overactive imagination and watching too many movies. Any resemblance to actual or cinematic events or persons is entirely coincidental. Incidents of violence within are not condoned, but merely represented to illustrate the harsh reality of what was Rome. The song lyrics used within did not influence the story, but were selected carefully to go along with the storyline.<br/>Story is presented in both diary, first-person action, and third person recollection format.<br/>---<br/>For the English translation of longer sets of lyrics, please look up the original lyrics by Evanescence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a.d. VII Ka. Dec

_Today I was sold into the House of Ostentus, a seemingly wealthy family in Rome. My name is Adalia, and this entry begins my new diary, for the previous was burnt in a rage by my former master, who, upon finding me out, did not approve of my writing-for-hire_ 1 _to earn money, so I was returned to a slave-trader._ 2

_It was today that I was sold again, not two days after my master tossed me out. At the auction, the slave-trader placed around my neck a rope on which hung a wooden plank._ 3 _On it my name was scratched, and under it the word_ “scribo.”4 _I overheard his shouts as he advertised me the crowd:_ “Barbara qua scribit”5 _(I understood long ago that I am considered foreign - despite my Roman birth – because I speak the Roman words oddly on account that I was first learned in the tongue of my mother, a German_ 6 _slave) and_ “Serva docta scribere pulchre”.7 _It was then that I learned my previous master did not simply throw me out of his household – he sold me to the slave-trader with the intention of reaping the benefits of my high asking price._ 8 _It was this day that the woman who was to become my mistress passed by the auction in the Forum. She must have liked what the slave-trader shouted, because her attendant approached him with a purse. The slave-trader then commanded me to give proof to the girl and her mistress that I could write the Roman words. A black slate and piece of chalk was handed to me by the slave-trader, and the middle-aged woman told me to write_ “Barbara serva sum sed possum scribere”9 _on the tablet. When I did as she commanded, she smirked, nodded to the slave-trader, and the sale was completed._

 

My new _owner is called Inusitatia. She is the mistress of the household, and her husband is called Gregario. She inquired about my skill to write the Roman words, as it was highly unusual for a foreign slave. I told her of my father, Garrulius, a Roman-born slave and son of a Pannonian_ 10 _slave family. He was raised in a wealthy household as an attendant to the master’s sons, and in effect learned to write the Roman words alongside the boys. He later was hired to teach the sons of those families who could not afford well-sought-after Greek tutors. My mother, Sutara_ 11 _, worked in the same household for the master’s wife. I was raised there, and was allowed to remain with my parents_ _until recently. My mother was even permitted to give me a German name, the name of her mother._ 12

_My father taught me to write the Roman words when I was a child and continued daily until my eighteenth birthday when he knew he had taught me all he could. His gift to me then was a pack of papyrus and ink, bought from an Egyptian merchant. It was on that day that I began my first diary. What my new mistress does not know is that I hid my old diary beneath a floorboard in my old quarters. I shall hide this diary too, for any person, free or not, should have the right to their own secret thoughts._

 

 _On the way to my new home, my mistress informed me of the rules she had set for her personal attendants, which I was intended to be. She also informed me that because of my skill of writing, I was to be her new scribe and reader._ 13 _(I was later told by another servant that doubling-up the duties of slaves was her way of cutting back on expenses.) My mistress began laying out the rules for me this evening._

 _I was to dress in whatever way she fashioned for me, which by the looks of her other hand-maidens was not the usual drab tunic. Her well-dressed female slaves_ 14 _were made known as such by a band of gold on their right upper-arm, which coiled into the shape of an “S”._

 

* * *

 

1 Kim Haines-Eitzen, “Girls Trained in Beautiful Writing: Female Scribes in Roman Antiquity and Early Christianity,” 6:4 (1998) 639. “Freelance work”.

2 William Blair, The State of Slavery Amongst the Romans, (London: Treuttel Wurtz & Richter, 1969) 53.

3 Mary L. Gordon, “The Nationality of Slaves under the Early Roman Empire,” 14 (1924) 93.

4 “I write.” Haines-Eitzen, “Girls Trained in Beautiful Writing,” 640. Female scribes were slaves or low-class women.

5 “Barbarian who writes.”

6 Gordon, “The Nationality of Slaves,” 95. German slaves.

7 “Slave girl taught to write beautifully.”

8 S. L. Mohler, “Slave Education in the Roman Empire,” 71 (1940) 266. “…more valuable pieces of property…”

9 “I am a barbarian slave, but I can write.”

10 Gordon, “The Nationality of Slaves,” 109. Pannonian slaves.

11 From _suta_ , “sewn together.” Gordon, “The Nationality of Slaves,” 97. Names may refer to the utility of the slave.

12 Lareina Rule, Name Your Baby (New York: Bantam Books Inc., 1963). Adalia. Old German from Adal, “noble”.

13 Blair, The State of Slavery, 137-9. _Scriba_ and _Lectrix_.

14 Haines-Eitzen, “Girls Trained in Beautiful Writing,” 637. Female masters hire female slaves, “plausible in an urban setting.”


	2. a.d. VI Ka. Dec

_This morning my mistress’ two other personal attendants brought to me what I was to wear every day. It was a white tunic, well-cut and not ragged, that came down to my knees. It had no sleeves, only one shoulder strap. I was also given a leather belt to wrap around my waist, and the “S” band, which I was to wear every day as well. My hair was to be tied back in a bun, in the old fashion, and I was given several wide leather thongs to wrap it with._ 1 _I was then given a messenger’s bag of durable leather, inside which was a supply of writing implements, some wax tablets, and some sheets of papyrus._

 

_Later in the day my mistress asked me to transcribe a note for her._ 2 _I probably should not repeat what is said in the notes, but she is apparently indebted to the man the note is for. Nor is it an important document, as I only used her wax tablets which she keeps in a box the size of my hand. I only needed to scribble a bit in shorthand with the stylus. I wonder if I’ll ever get to use my talent with ink and parchment for her someday. I know she would be impressed._

 

_Meals are generous in this household. At dinner the servants eat after the master and his wife are served, and there are even slaves that serve us upper-servants._ 3 _We do not have dining couches, but we do get good food, and wine a couple nights a week._

 

_After the household was asleep, I lit an oil lamp, and gave myself a tour of the estate. We three hand-maidens have our own small sleeping quarters off to the side of the atrium. The master and mistress slept in a room on the second floor. I had already seen the store out front, which the family rents to whoever needs the space. I particularly liked the_ impluvium _in the atrium which collected rain water. The statue in the center was of a dolphin, and around the pool were mosaics of black and white patterns. The walls of the atrium were the most fanciful in the house, and depicted animals of all sorts._

_I passed by the kitchen area toward the courtyard, which I had yet to see. When I entered, a cool breeze swept by, and I shivered in my tunic. I stepped barefoot through the garden. There was a birdbath, and many bushes and trees, but no flowers this time of year. I gazed at the stars for a bit, and then went back to my room to write in my journal, and sleep._

* * *

1 Blair,  The State of Slavery, 97. Masters attired their slaves as they pleased.

2 Haines-Eitzen, “Girls Trained in Beautiful Writing” 631. “Shorthand writers were commonly employed in households….”.

3 Blair, The State of Slavery, 53.


	3. a.d. IV Ka. Dec

_Today I am to take a message over to the House of Lascivius which I wrote for my mistress last night. Her usual messenger has the fever, and so I have taken his place for now._

* * *

 

I walked up to the front door and was met by a man I hadn’t seen for years. His hair was still the color of fire, only now he had a man’s beard, trimmed short as was the current style for pedagogues, apparently. “Britannicus?” I gawked. _Britannicus_. As a young boy he was brought to Rome as a captive of Britannia 1, and later made the playmate and attendant of a wealthy patrician’s sons. While doing so, he learned to write the Roman words alongside the boys, just as my father had done.2

The man grinned and his eyes sparkled. “Adalia, is that you?”

I continued to stare in disbelief. He had always looked very handsome, and now even more than ever I was attracted to him.3

“I thought I’d never see you again!” he said as he embraced me. 

“Nor I you!” I said as I looked upon the face of the older boy I once secretly loved, now a man. “I don’t even remember how long it’s been.”

“Much too long. You were but a girl last I saw you, always eavesdropping on your father’s lessons.”

“Yes I remember! You were the attendant to those boys who came to see my father twice a week.”4

“Yes, but they’re grown now.”

“Do you still work for the same master?”

“I do, in fact this is his estate. His youngest is but a babe, still with his mother and nurses, but in time I will be teaching him as I did his brothers.”

“So you teach now?” I was enamored.

“Yes, whenever I am needed. Until then I serve as a porter.5 And you, do you still serve with your parents?”

“No, my master caught me making money behind his back, writing things for those who wished, so he sold me to the highest bidder. Once he knew I could write the Roman words, he wanted my worth, rather than my service.”

“I assume you learned from your father.” He smiled.

“Yes, when he wasn’t teaching other men’s boys, he taught me. And now I serve as personal scribe and reader for the mistress of the House of Ostentus.”

“Inusitatia?”

“You know of her?”

“Yes…” he looked down at his feet. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Her regular messenger is ill, so she sent me in his stead. I need to hand this to the master of the house, is he in?” I showed him the tablet-box.

Britannicus led me to the master, who accepted the box, scratched a reply into a second tablet, and handed the box back to me.

“See that the lady gets home to her mistress safely, Britannicus,” the master of the house ordered.

“Yes, Master.” Britannicus and I bowed and began the way back to my mistress’ estate. 

After a while, he spoke. “How is your father? Well, I hope.”

“Yes, thank you. He is still teaching the Roman words.”

“Good,” he replied.

More awkward silence passed before a random thought entered my mind.

“Are you married?” I don’t know why I asked. It just came out.

Britannicus laughed. “No, my master had forbidden it. He feared I would pay more attention to my own children than his should I take a wife.”6

“That’s reasonable.”

He shrugged. “I suppose. I never thought much of it.”

We walked in silence for a little while more.

“Are you married?” He turned the tables.

“No,” I blushed. “When I served with my parents, the opportunity never presented itself. And now my new mistress forbids it, though I don’t know why.”

More silence passed as we strolled through the suburban streets. We passed small shops selling all sorts of things: fresh bread, herbs, daggers, and jewelry to name a few. Vendors shouted advertisements to the passersby, and buyers haggled vigorously. 

Britannicus plucked a winter-flower7 from a small garden beneath a public fountain and with it tickled my chin. Failing to contain myself, I giggled like a school girl, and felt my cheeks become flushed. 

With a flash of lightning and thunder clap, the clouds opened up in a sudden burst of rain. Britannicus grabbed my hand and we then darted through the busy streets – now even more chaotic with people scrambling to get out of the rain. Finally we reached my mistress’ estate, and took shelter under the overhang of the front shop. The shop-keeper nodded hello to me and went about his business. He was selling leather goods.

“I’ve missed spending time with you,” Britannicus said. “What little time we spent together in the past was… nice.” He smiled, and handed me the flower. 

“Yes, it was.” I smiled back, and accepted the flower. 

Britannicus leaned forward, kissed my cheek, and then started back to his master’s home. He turned around, still walking, and smiled.

* * *

 

1 Gordon, “The Nationality of Slaves,” 97. Names may refer to ethnicity of slave.

2 Mohler, “Slave Education,” 264. Pedagogues learned what their masters learned.

3 Mohler, “Slave Education,” 268.Pedagogues were “well dressed, were careful of their complexions, and had neatly combed hair.”

4 Mohler, “Slave Education,” 262. “…organized schools within the larger households…”

5 Blair, The State of Slavery, 137, 139. _Paedagogus_ and _Gerulus_.

6 Blair,  The State of Slavery, 118. “There was no lawful matrimony…but they formed unions resembling that relation.…

A master might forbid his slaves to marry ….”.

7 BBC Plant Profiles. “Helleborus niger, Christmas rose.” Online profile. _Helleborus niger_.

< http://www.bbc.co.uk/gardening/plants/plant_profiles/hellebore_christmas_rose/hellebore_christmas_rose1.shtml >.   


	4. pridie Ka. Dec

_Earlier today, while accompanying my mistress to the Forum, I met up with Britannicus. While his master and my mistress were talking, we also talked, and he handed me a small folded piece of paper and kissed my cheek. I tucked the note into my tunic and read it later. The note read thus:_

 

si mundum eges fugere quo habitas

reclina tuum caput et diu mane 

quamquam somnians non reminiscaris 

aliquis expectat tibi denuo spirare1

 

_My mistress caught me talking to him and hollered for me. She slapped my face and reprimanded me for not being attentive to her. Britannicus looked as if he wanted to give her a beating for hurting me, but he calmed his rage. My mistress finished her discussion with the man, and he then left with Britannicus. She then tugged at my arm and commanded me to follow her home._

 

_I must confess that my old feelings for Britannicus have returned. It took but one look upon his face to stir up emotions long forgotten. I fear I may not be able to obey my mistress’ wishes that I avoid getting romantically involved with a man._ 2

_Tonight I may try to see him. If I leave after we eat and after the rest of the household is asleep it is likely that I will be undetected and unmissed, as long as I’m back before dawn._

* * *

1 “Imaginary” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

> “If you need to leave the world you live in
> 
> Lay your head down and stay a while
> 
> Though you may not remember dreaming
> 
> Something waits for you to breathe again”

2 W. V. Harris, “Demography, Geography and the Sources of Roman Slaves,” 89 (1999) 66.

“…when the bad [slaves] form sexual relationships they become more liable to misbehave.”


	5. a.d. IV Id. Dec

_My mistress’ children and grandchildren had been visiting until now. She had little use for my service during the last week, so I made use of the time to practice my calligraphy, see Britannicus, and read some scrolls that he lent me of stories his master wrote for his children. Britannicus had also given me some Greek scrolls, which he intends for me to learn. I have been practicing for a while now, but it is not going so well._

_It has been difficult to see Britannicus as often as I’d like, though. Our encounters over the past few days especially, however brief, are enough to make me want to never leave his side. Tonight he asked me to stay with him permanently in his master’s estate. He knows that it is not my choice where I work and who I work for. If I wanted to live with Britannicus, I would need to be married to him; albeit a “fake marriage” as I hear patricians call it. He offered to ask his master to be sold into the House of Ostentus, but I dissuaded him – the family is in debt, and do not treat their slaves nearly as well as his current master does. It was then that we decided that I would ask my mistress for permission to either marry Britannicus, or to be sold to his master’s household._

_He wrote me another note tonight which he gave to me before I left._

_He seems to like writing poetic love notes._

 

conveni mecum post noctem denuo et te amplexabo

sum non plus quam te ibi videre

et fortasse haec noctu, procul avolabimus

erimus longe ab hic ante aurora

 

modo nox posset te tenere ubi possum te videre, Care

ergo me sine numquam unquam denuo excitari

et fortasse haec noctu, procul avolabimus

erimus longe ab hic ante aurora

 

nescio quomodo, sed scio quem non possumus excitari e hoc somnio

non verum, sed nostrum est1

 

* * *

 

 

 

1 “Before the Dawn” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.


	6. pridie Id. Dec

_Yesterday was the day that I asked my mistress if I could marry. She had looked at me angrily, and reprimanded me with sharp words. She reminded me that I was forbidden to marry. When I asked why, she slapped me and said it was not my place to question her. To avoid further abuse I quickly apologized. I then asked, if I could not marry, then if I could be sold to the House of Lascivius. My mistress huffed, and asked why. When I told her, her eyes widened as if I had spoken the name of a ghost or some feared monster. Her face turned red and promptly ordered another slave to have me lashed. I asked her why - why I was to be punished for loving Britannicus, for he was just a slave as I was. My mistress screamed curses and spit on me before stomping out of the room._

_I was tethered, hands bound, to a column in the courtyard, and lashed with a rod I don’t know how many times. I was left there until noon today, when I was taken to my quarters and tended to by a doctor._

_I was given several days to rest._ 1

* * *

 

I staggered through the moonlit grove to our meeting place, periodically stopping and leaning on trees to rest. The pain was almost too much, but I had to see him. After a while, though nearly there, I couldn’t go on. I called out his name, hoping he would hear and come find me. Finally I heard someone whisper my name. I managed a whimpering response.

“Adalia!” he said as he hurried to embrace me. I winced at the sudden pressure on my back, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I’m so happy, my love. I asked my master permission to marry and he gave it! He said that after so long a time of faithful service and serving his sons without fault that I am to be rewarded.” 

After his moment of blind euphoria, he realized I had been crying, and his radiant smile faded fast. He asked me what was wrong. I grasped his tunic and, bursting into tears, fell to the ground. Britannicus cradled me in his arms and stroked my hair. He again asked me what was wrong.

After a moment of gathering myself, I told him. “My mistress,” I began, “I asked her permission, as you did your master… but she was not so kind….” 

Britannicus then noticed the straight lines of blood on my back that had seeped through the cloth. He seemed to choke on his tears. “She had you… flogged?” 

I looked up at him with my tear-blurred vision, and then buried my face again in his tunic. 

“You don’t have to take this, you know. You can report her, and she could be fined. Or you could be taken away from her.” 2

“No…” I shook my head and sat up. 

“And why not? She has no right to punish you for such a trivial request.”

I looked into his eyes. “I want out.”

Britannicus stared back for a moment. “I told you, just report her and--”

“No,” I interrupted. “I want _out_ , Britannicus.” With difficulty, I stood myself up. “I want out,” I repeated, looking down at him, giving him my hand to help him up.

He responded in a whisper. “You want to run away? Ada’, they’d just catch you, and you’d be worse off than you are now. Don’t be foolish.”

“If I ran, would you run with me?”

He laughed, “You mean now, in your condition?”

“No, not now. But whenever it is, we need to be ready for it. But I’m serious, Britannicus. Would you run with me?”

He sighed, and smiled softly. “Of course I would.” He caressed my arm and kissed my forehead. “ _A te nulla vincula possunt me tenere_.” 3

“Britannicus…” I said with a serious tone. “My mistress only had me flogged when I spoke your name…. Why is that?”

He furrowed his brow and frowned, as if reminded of an unpleasant memory. “Once, years ago, I refused Inusitatia’s advances. She persisted. If I had hit her, she would have had me whipped. I had to call for my master in order to get her to stop. Ever since, she’s scorned my very name. _Talis vita est_ ,”4 he sighed. “Now that I think of it, it would have been worth giving her that kind of social humiliation.”5 He laughed at himself. I was not amused. “Come now, you’re upset and exhausted. I’ll walk you home. We’ll talk about how to deal with your mistress when you’ve rested.”

* * *

 

1 Lesley and Roy Adkins, Handbook to Life in Ancient Rome (New York: Facts on File, 1994) 353. Punishment of slaves.

2 Blair, The State of Slavery, 90. Slaves “rescued from the hands of improper owners.”

3 “Even In Death” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“No bonds can hold me from your side”

4 “Such is life.”

5 Blair, The State of Slavery, 42.   


	7. a.d. XVIII Ka. Jan

_While healing at my mistress’ estate, Britannicus snuck in to see me every night. We quietly discussed our options on what to do about my situation. He offered to report the abuse to a magistrate on my behalf, but I refused. His word would have been nothing against hers._

_It was last night that I convinced Britannicus that we should run away._

_What we hadn’t decided on is when._

* * *

 

“We could go to Britannia,” Britannicus suggested. “I still have family there, cousins of a sort. I received a letter from them not long ago. They say the Romans are growing increasingly tiresome over the revolts. However small, they’re becoming quite frequent.”

“How long does it take to get there on horseback?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll get there somehow, eventually.”

Britannicus smiled and sighed. “I should probably go, it’s getting light outside.” 

“No poem this time?” I grinned.

“Ah, I almost forgot.” Britannicus found the folded note where he had put his belt. 

“Who knew you could be such a poet, eh?”

“I wrote them a lot as a boy, silly things about animals and such, but hadn’t written any for a long time, until now. You make for a good Muse.” He smiled, kissed my cheek, and handed me the small scrap of paper. He then quickly threw on his tunic and belt, smiled, and left through the unbarred window.

I then quietly read the poem aloud:

_bonam noctem, bene dormi_

_non plus lacrimarum_

_mane hic adero_

_et cum dicimus bonam noctem_

_absterge lacrimas_

_quoniam dicebamus bonam noctem_

_etiam vale_

_dicebamus bonam noctem_

_etiam bonam noctem_ 1

* * *

 

1 “Goodnight” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“Goodnight, sleep tight / No more tears / In the morning, I'll be here / And when we say goodnight / Dry your eyes /

Because we said goodnight / And now goodbye / We said goodnight / And now goodnight”


	8. a.d. XVII Ka. Jan

_Britannicus did not come to see me last night. I took advantage of the opportunity to carry out the plan I thought out in his absence._

_Since tomorrow is the Saturnalia, I thought it would be the perfect time to run away, because we would be dressed the same as any freeperson, and everyone else would be drunk or busy gambling anyway._ _ 1 _ _Once outside the city limits, Britannicus will take us to a villa he knows of with many horses. We will take two, but ride one at a time, together. We will ride as hard and fast and as long as we and the horse can last without rest, and camp without a fire. The plan is to ride due north until one day we reach the sea that separates the northern part of the empire from Britannia._

_So, early this morning when the sun had not yet risen, I hid two satchels in the bushes behind the Temple of Saturn, beneath the undergrowth. In the satchels I placed food enough for two weeks of travel, and two white cloaks of linen, which are common I am told of priests and priestesses. Should my love and I be stopped on our way outside the city walls, we will claim to be servants of the Temple of Saturn, who on this first night of Saturnalia are on our way to give offerings of food to those in need, or invite those willing to travel to feast in the city. The inquirer needs only to look inside the satchels and see the quantity of food to know we are what we say._

 

_Before heading back to my mistress’ estate, I snuck to the window of Britannicus’ quarters. I whispered his name, but he did not wake. I slipped through the bars a small scroll with a message on it, in the form of a poem so as not to arouse suspicion to anyone else who might read it._

_The note read as follows:_

 

_On the first Saturnal night of seven,_

_do not swim in the fountain of Bacchus._

_After the non-masters become sleepy,_

_listen for the bird with the harp._

_She will sing to you alone,_

_as Mercury does for the gods._

_Be prepared for the longer journey home._

* * *

1 Harry Thurston Peck. “Harpers Dictionary of Classical Antiquities: Saturnalia.”1898. Online entry.

< http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/cgi-bin/ptext?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.04.0062%3Aid%3Dsaturnalia >.


	9. a.d. XVI Ka. Jan - Saturnalia

_Tonight is the first night of the Saturnalia. My mistress gave to me and the other hand-maidens long, loose dresses and_ stolae _just like the ones worn by our masters at feasts and festivals_ 1 _. She also handed to us a chest filled with ornaments. I chose to wear a wide silver band on my head._

 

_Two nights ago, I had given one of my mistress’ harp-singers_ 2 _a song I had written for her to recite at the banquet once the masters were red-faced and drowsy. When she asked why, I simply said I wanted to hear my poem performed by such a beautiful songstress, in honor of Saturn, of course. What she did not know is that the song is in fact a message to my love, one that he will be prepared to hear._

* * *

 

By the time we reached the Temple of Saturn, the priests had already begun the sacrifice3, and the tantalizing aroma of charred beef wafted through the air. The priests had their heads uncovered, in the Greek way. Shouts of “ _Io, Saturnalia!_ ” and “ _Bona Saturnalia!_ ”could be heard from the crowd. Soon, the woolen bonds were cut from the ivory statue inside the temple.4

Meanwhile, I milled about in the portico, waiting for Britannicus, taking on the sights.

People had gathered from every suburb, and even surrounding farm districts, to celebrate together this most joyous holiday. The streets surrounding the temple were nearly packed full with people exchanging gifts and news and gossip. Musicians meandered through the crowd with their flutes. Most everyone wore their _synthesis_ , and many slaves wore a _pilleus_ to symbolize the freedom the holiday granted them. 5 The night wind was quite cold, and I was thankful for my woolen garments.6

 

“You’re more brilliant than the moon herself,” I heard his voice from behind. I turned around to see not Britannicus, but Bacchus himself, in the guise of my lover. “Surely I am mistaken. I was looking for my love, but have found Diana instead,” he grinned broadly.

I grinned in response. “And since when do teachers dress like the god of revelry?” 

“Since that is what their master gave for them to wear.” He outstretched his arms and shrugged, grinning. “I particularly like the gilded grape vine wreath, don’t you?”

I smirked, kissed him, and teased, “ _Redoles vini pinique_.” 7

He laughed. “I helped the family decorate the house with fir and holly, and shared some wine with my master. Shall we dine?” He offered his arm, and we entered the temple. 

 

“I got your note,” he said softly as we walked into the temporary banquet hall. “What is it exactly that you have planned, Ada’?” he said in a concerned voice. 

I leaned toward him and whispered, “You’ll know when the bird sings.” 

 

After the servants had eaten their fill, it was the masters’ turn to imbibe. When I noticed the majority of them were drunk, I signaled the harp-singer with a nod to begin the song. She stood at the head of the hall, next to the harp-player, who was accustomed to impromptu performances. The girl began:

 

_Care mee, cupivistine mecum esse_

_Et care mee, cupivistine liber_

_Non possum pergere simulans te nescire_

_Et nocte suavi, es meus_

_Accipe manum_

 

_Haec noctu effugimus_

_Non necesse est quemquam docere_

_Nos solum retinebunt_

_Sic luce aurorae_

_Paene quoquam erimus_

_Qua amor amplius solum tuum nomen est_

 

_Domum tibi mihique somniavi_

_Ibi nemo scit quos sumus_

_Cupio meam vitam tibi solam dare_

_Somniavi diu, non possum plus somniare_

_Fugiamus, illuc ducam_

 

_Haec noctu effugimus_

_Non necesse est quemquam docere_

_Nos solum retinebunt_

_Sic luce aurorae_

_Paene quoquam erimus_

_Qua nemo causam requirit_

 

_Hanc vitam dedisce_

_Mecum veni_

_Noli respicere_ _, nunc salvus es_

_Animum resera_

_Custodiam demitte_

_Nemo circa est te prohibere_

 

_Haec noctu effugimus_

_Non necesse est quemquam docere_

_Nos solum retinebunt_

_Sic luce aurorae_

_Paene quoquam erimus_

_Qua amor amplius solum tuum nomen est_ 8

 

 

Britannicus, sitting next to me, gave me a questioning look. I nodded. Knowing that masters must forgive their slaves for actions taken during this holiday, within reason, I decided to act as if Britannicus and I were going off together into the night, as many slave couples often did on this holiday.

As if in a drunken stupor, I slowly dragged myself off the couch, grabbed my drinking cup, filled with the wine I feigned to drink all evening, and scrambled toward the front of the temple. I then gestured for Britannicus to follow me. I kissed him, and lead him by the hand out of the temple. I stumbled my way to the rear of the building where I had buried the satchels, pinned Britannicus to the wall, and continued to kiss him. I opened my eyes and looked around, waiting for other festival-goers to clear the area. When they did so, I let go of Britannicus, and hastily dug up the satchels. Upon hearing nearby voices, I resumed kissing him. When the people cleared, I stripped the “S” band from my arm, buried it, and quickly donned one of the white cloaks, giving the second to Britannicus. We took the satchels of food and began to walk north toward the city limits.

* * *

 

 

1 Peck. “Harpers Dictionary of Classical Antiquities: Saturnalia.”

2 Blair, The State of Slavery, 140. _Psaltria_.

3 Adkins,  Handbook to Life in Ancient Rome 287.

4 James Grout. “Encyclopaedia Romana: Saturnalia.” 2004. Online entry.

< http://itsa.ucsf.edu/~snlrc/encyclopaedia_romana/calendar/saturnalia.html >.

5 Grout. “Encyclopaedia Romana: Saturnalia.” 2004. Online entry.

6 Walton Brooks McDaniel, “Roman Dinner-Garments,” 20:3 (1925) 269.

7 “You smell of wine and pine.”

8 “Anywhere” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records - See attached for translation.


	10. a.d. XIV Ka. Jan

_We have been fleeing for two nights now. Our horses are strong and young, and should be able to carry us far. We have not yet seen or heard signs of slave-hunters, but still refrain from lighting a fire at night. We pray every night to the gods to help us in our flight._

_No one questioned us as we made our way north. We had met one guard at the north gate. We bowed and kept walking, and saw no one since. We fear only wolves now, but have not heard any yet._

_We still plan on riding until we reach the northern sea, and once there sell our horses for a_

* * *

 

Adalia heard a rustling of leaves to the south-west of their encampment. She put down her journal and touched Britannicus lightly on the forearm, signaling to keep quiet. She pointed to the direction of the disturbance. Then another noise came from the south, and another from the north-west, and another from the east. When the light of torches illuminated from the forest, Adalia reached for Britannicus’ hand. By the light of the moon and torches the couple saw the men emerge from the brush into the small clearing.

One man shouted, “ _Consistite, canes!_ ”1

Adalia jumped to her feet as did Britannicus. The two ran in the opposite direction of the man who shouted, but were stopped by more men. All together there were nearly two-dozen of them, a company of professional slave-hunters, hired by Britannicus’ owner upon the demands of Inusitatia.

One of the men slapped the girl across her face, and then held her hands behind her back. Three more quickly subdued Britannicus, and had him in restraints in no time. With Britannicus out of the way, several slave-hunters now attempted to pin down Adalia, who was flailing wildly in protest. She grabbed a hold of the face of one of the men and dug her nails into his flesh, leaving scratch marks when he jerked his head away. The girl received another, harder slap, knocking her to the ground. The men were finally able to restrain her. 

After the struggle, Britannicus was beaten until nearly unconscious, then was lead without difficulty to a nearby tree and tied to the trunk, facing away from the clearing. 

After a while, Britannicus came to. He heard the slave-hunters laughing and shouting, and then screams and sobs from Adalia, piercing through the cold winter night. Britannicus shouted into the forest, cursing the men, demanding them to stop. But the terrifying screams continued, and he could do nothing but sit, and listen to his beloved being torn apart in body and soul.

* * *

 

1 “Halt, dogs!”


	11. Note to Inusitatia from the slave-hunter team captain

a.d. XIII Ka. Jan

> _Inusitatia,_
> 
> _We found your slave girl and the other slave in the woods of northern Italia. We return to you now your property, intact. Among their possessions we found a diary kept by the girl, which we thought might be of interest to you. Might we suggest that you put a collar on this one; she put up quite a fight with my men._
> 
> _Gaius Saevus_


	12. Notes between Inusitatia and Lascivius, owner of Britannicus

a.d. XI Ka. Jan

> _Lascivius,_
> 
> _Thank you for paying for the services of those slave-hunters._ 1 _As always, I am in your debt. I am doing what I can to keep this harlot away from that British dog. She has been fitted with a collar with my information on it._ 2 _She will be hence under the guard of my most loyal servant._
> 
> _Inusitatia Ostenti_

 

a.d. X Ka. Jan

> _Inusitatia,_
> 
> _It is because of your cruelty and selfishness that the two ran away. Britannicus had my permission to marry that girl. He has been loyal throughout his years here. He has informed me of your vindictiveness, and your ill-treatment of the young girl whom you’d like to call a harlot._
> 
> _Whereas you have decided to put your slave on a leash, I have decided to give mine his freedom, as I know that it is only because of love for that girl that he ran away. I hope you will follow in my steps._
> 
> _Marcus Lascivius_

 

a.d. IX Ka. Jan

> _Lascivius,_
> 
> _Freedom to a fugitive slave? You must be mad, old man. Adalia now knows her place. She will remain in my service until I am either dead or no longer have use for her. Now that you’ve let your dog lose I will have to work harder at keeping him away from the girl. I warn you now, Lascivius_ , _do not be surprised if one day you hear that he is dead._
> 
> _Inusitatia Ostenti_

  

a.d. VIII Ka. Jan

> _Inusitatia,_
> 
> _Britannicus has decided to leave Rome for Ostia to be with a relative. If I do find one day that he is dead, be assured you will join him not long after. As for Adalia, I have contacted the local magistrate of your unjust cruelty to the girl._
> 
> _This marks the end of our acquaintance. I will be collecting all your debts within the month. Do not refuse me what is owed, or you will end up a slave yourself._
> 
> _Marcus Lascivius_

* * *

 

1 K.R. Bradley, Slaves and Masters in the Roman Empire (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987) 32.

2 Adkins, Handbook to Life in Ancient Rome 342.


	13. Notes  in secession between Britannicus and Adalia after his departure to Ostia

**Britannicus to Adalia**

| 

**Adalia to Britannicus**  
  
---|---  
  
_verba e stilo exhausti sunt_

_suaves verba quae cupio tibi dare_

_et non possum dormire_

_requiro dicere tibi_

_bonam noctem_ 1

| 

   
  
 

| 

_cum sumus una, perfecta sentio_

_cum abscindor de te, dilabor_

_sci, moriar solum te amplexari, tecum manere_

_sci, es solum pro quo spiro_ 2  
  
 

_sine somno iaceo et conor de te non cogitare_

_sed qui potest constituere quem somniant_

_tamen somnio_ 3

| 

   
  
 

| 

_fidem te habeo_

_dabo omnia solum te invenire_

_necesse est mihi tecum esse ut spirare_ 4  
  
 

_frigidus intus_

_sine tuo contactu_

_sine tuo amore, Care_

_sola vitam in mortuis es_

_sine animo, alicubi gelidus dormit_

_dum ibi eum invenies et ad domum ducies_ 5

| 

   
  
 

| 

 

_nunc quoniam scio quem careo_

_non potes solum me deserere_

_sine cogitatione, voce, animo_

_eripe me a nil quod factus sum_

_noli me sinere_ _hic mori_ 6  
  
_mea sola spes,_

_mea sola pax_

_sola laetitia,_

_sola vis, sola vita,_

_mea sola caritas_ 7

| 

   
  
* * *

 

1 “You” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“The words have been drained from this pencil / Sweet words that I want to give you /

And I can't sleep, I need to tell you goodnight”

2 “You” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“When we’re together I feel perfect / When I’m pulled away from you I fall apart /

You know I’d die just to hold you, stay with you / You know you’re all that I live for”

3 “Taking Over Me” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you / But who can decide what they dream? / And dream I do”

4 “Taking Over Me” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“I believe in you / I'll give up everything just to find you / I have to be with you to live, to breathe”

5 “Bring Me To Life” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“Frozen inside, without your touch, without your love, darling / Without a soul my spirit sleeping somewhere cold /

Until you find it there and lead it back home”

6 “Bring Me To Life” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“Now that I know what I’m without, you can't just leave me / Without a thought without a voice without a soul /

Save me from the nothing I’ve become / Don’t let me die here”

7 “October” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“My only hope, my only peace, my only joy, my only strength, my only life, my only love”


	14. From the writings of Sermunculus

_It was overheard that the slave Britannicus continually suffered by the hands of Inusitatia Ostenti. Not long after Lascivius informed Inusitatia of his calling in of her debts and notifying the local magistrate of her unfounded cruelty, he was found dead, stabbed to death in his courtyard sometime during the night. That morning it also became known that Inusitatia had accused Britannicus of attempting to rape her the night before Lascivius’ murder. She had proposed to the court that the slave was mad with rage and should be put out of his misery. Whether or not Britannicus actually did these things is not known, but Rumor blames Inusitatia, and the vulgar crowd tends to believe Her._

_By the order of Inusitatia, the seemingly innocent slave was sent to the dungeon of the Flavian Amphitheater as a_ damnatus1 _, accused with rape and murder. I have overheard women empathizing for the slave’s lover, Adalia. It is also a common thing to hear the people mutter, “I bet it is Inusitatia that is the mad one!”_

_Soon after these events, signs in the Forum read that there was to be a show in the Flavian Amphitheater in a week’s time._

* * *

 

Adalia donned a cloak which she had stolen from her mistress’ wardrobe. She had first wrapped a scarf around her neck, placed strategically over her collar. With her purse hidden under the bulky cloak, she proceeded into the cold rainy night to the amphitheater’s dungeon. Her guardian did not notice her leave, for Adalia had that night slipped into her wine a tonic, which causes heavy sleeping. In one of her short moments of being unattended, Adalia had inquired about the tonics the new shop-keeper in her very household was selling, and had later discreetly stolen the one she needed.

When she reached the gate to the prison she was met by a guard, to whom she promptly gave a gold ring of her mistress’, also stolen, and said, “I wish to see the condemned Britannicus.” The guard, accustomed to upper-class ladies secretly visiting gladiators, proceeded to lead the way. Upon reaching the prisoner’s cell, the guard opened the barred door and let her in. 

Adalia watched the guard step far enough away to be out of whispering earshot, and then approached her lover, huddled on the floor against the cold stone wall. 

 

“ _Noli timere flammam candelae mei amoris. Sine eam solem tuo caligine esse,”_ 2 she whispered.

“Adalia?” He raised his head and strained to see in the darkness the face hidden beneath the hooded cloak.

She knelt down to him and lifted her hood, her cheeks wet with both rain and tears. “ _Britannice…”_ she said as she caressed his cheek. 

“What are you doing here?” he whispered.

“I’ve seen the advertisements. They advertise _damnati_ ….”

Britannicus sighed. “Tomorrow,” was all he said.

“Yes, that’s why I came tonight.”

“The guards taunt me every morning…. They say I’m to be matched with a Caledonian, though I do not think they mean a man. I’ve not been given training. They never train those who are meant to die….” He lowered his head into his chapped hands. “It is time I’ve accepted my defeat.”

“They have succeeded in taking our freedom, but they have yet to take our lives.” Adalia reached into her purse and placed a sheathed dagger in his hands.

Britannicus looked up at her with a puzzled gaze. 

“You still have control over one thing. To take one’s own life is no sin, not when the alternative is public humiliation and subsequent slaughter. This dagger is for us both. End this now, not in the arena, and I will follow. If the likes of us are welcome in Elysium, I will surely find you there.”

Britannicus looked over the dagger, his brow furrowed. He slowly ran the blade along his palm. Adalia grasped his free hand, and the two locked eyes. A smile was then shared between the two of them, and one last kiss. He positioned the dagger at his abdomen, exhaled, and closed his eyes.

 

_“Lupa!”_ 3 The shout came from outside the cell door. A jangle of keys followed, and the door was opened. A drenched Inusitatia stormed into the cell and seized Adalia by her hair. In his surprise Britannicus had dropped the dagger. Inusitatia spat on the girl, and then proceeded to drag her out of the cell by her hair.

“Have her chained by the collar to one of the columns in the courtyard,” she ordered one of her attendants. Despite her thrashing, a chain was attached to the loop on the collar, and Adalia was led by leash back to her mistress’ estate. 

A guard then began whipping Britannicus incessantly. Over his own screams, he could hear Adalia’s shouts fade into the roaring rain.

 

It was midday when Inusitatia entered the Flavian Amphitheater with her entourage, including the slave Adalia, led by a chain by a second attendant. When the matron’s hand-maidens started up to their designated seating area, she stopped Adalia, and made her sit next to her. There was much muttering amongst the other spectators, but they knew of her recent escape, and didn’t make much of this action.

They only later realized that the woman wanted the slave to have a good view of the arena.

The first event of the midday break was the execution of some convicts and captives, and _damnatio ad bestias_. 4 The last of them, three Christian men, were led to the center of the arena by chain leads, and promptly tied to stakes. A trumpet sounded, and the executioners were let loose: three half-starved lionesses, which, upon the instant of their release, each darted to one of the unlucky men. The women in the audience, in their modesty, shied away from the sight, and there was a murmur of both groans and cheers.5

Inusitatia had a sly, eerie smirk on her face when the announcer took his stand again.6 Most of the audience cleared out during this midday intermission from the actual shows. Those sitting near Inusitatia must have been curious, for many spectators remained seated. The announcer began his speech:

“Slaves are no better than dogs. The only good thing about that is dogs are loyal!” The crowd laughed. “But what happens when your beloved family pet turns rabid? Killing our fathers and raping our mothers!” The announcer then held his hand toward a gate leading to the arena. “I give to you your disloyal rabid dog, the slaveBritannicus!”

Adalia, hearing this, shouted her lover’s name and attempted to run to the arena wall, but was restrained by her mistress. Those sitting near her gasped and stared. Swift Rumor had spread the slave girl’s tale. Those who had heard it knew what her mistress was doing. The onlookers who were close enough could see the tears slowly running down the slave’s cheeks, see her clenched jaw and fists, and feel the anger emitting from her being. 

Britannicus heard her and looked up at the crowd in the direction of the cry. The _bestiarius_ 7 who was leading him onto the arena struck the slave across the back of his head and goaded him forward.

“Why didn’t he kill himself?” the slave girl was overheard muttering. 

Inusitatia said softly to the girl, “I’m told that after I dragged you back to my house, one of the guards took your dagger-of-love and used it to turn your beloved into a eunuch.” The matron smiled to herself, and the slave stared wide-eyed into nothing, clenching her fists.

The announcer continued. “The poor beast must be put out of his misery. What better punishment for a disloyal rabid dog than to be fed to another rabid animal!” The crowd laughed again. “And at the same time, why not reunite two neighbors, if not but for a few moments. Guards, bring out that wretched, slavering, wrangling mountain of muscle, the Caledonian Bear!”8

At this the crowd roared. Adalia choked on her own shocked gasp. Inusitatia maintained her wicked smirk. Out came a behemoth of a bear, which was in fact rabid, so advanced in its state as to be recognizable from the audience. The _bestiarius_ kicked Britannicus toward the furious creature. To get the bewildered bear’s attention, the _bestiarius_ whipped Britannicus across the back, causing him to scream. The bear, angered by the sudden noise, charged at its source. The bear stopped in his tracks only to stand upright, roaring and bearing his foam-covered teeth. Britannicus could barely move, wounded as he was, and with the _bestiarius_ behind him, threatening to whip him. The bear clumsily lunged forward, and Britannicus was able to move quickly to the side. With Britannicus out of the way, the bear lunged at the _bestiarius_ instead, crushing him in a mighty bear-hug. The crowd gasped. Britannicus took advantage of this brief moment, and ran as fast as he could, though limping and wincing in pain, to the area of the audience from where he heard his love’s voice call.

When he reached the arena wall, he looked up at Adalia and shouted, “ _Te inveniam,_ ”9 touched his hand to his naked breast, and turned back to the animal who had sauntered slowly after him. Adalia said nothing, for shock had taken over her senses. Britannicus then walked up to the approaching bear, roared at it in mimicry, and with one fatal leap into the mighty arms of the beast, was promptly dispatched by the animal’s powerful jowls.

Adalia let out a scream, and struggled against her bonds. The slave put up a valiant struggle, and was able to jerk the chain lead away from her mistress’ grasp. She then ran down toward the arena wall. Her mistress caught up with her and got a hold on the chain lead. But before Inusitatia was able to halt the girl, Adalia plunged over the parapet, nearly taking her mistress with her. The crowd was enthralled with this real-life spectacle. Inusitatia, still holding the chain lead, was able to stop herself from following over the short railing, but the sudden stop had snapped the slave’s neck, killing her instantly. Inusitatia was stunned momentarily, and let the chain go. Adalia’s limp body fell to the sand below, inches from her lover’s ravaged corpse. 

By then, guards had entered the arena to dispatch the sick bear. They ran over to the dead bodies and looked up at Inusitatia, who did not claim her slave. Doing so would have assured her a proper burial.10 The guards then speared the two slaves’ bodies to make sure that they were dead, and proceeded to cart them out by a travois attached to a single-horse-drawn chariot to the Tiber to be dumped. 

Inusitatia broke out of her stunned state, brushed her hands together, and walked off.

* * *

 

1 “Condemned”. K. M. Coleman, “Fatal Charades: Roman Executions Staged as Mythological Enactments,” 80 (1990) 55.

2 “Give Unto Me” performed by Evanescence, © Wind-Up Records.

“Fear not the flame of my love’s candle / Let it be the sun in your world of darkness”

3 “Whore!”

4 “Condemned to the beasts.”

5 Coleman, “Fatal Charades,” 55. “… _damnati ad bestias_ were dispatched in the arena during the midday pause….”

6 Coleman, “Fatal Charades,” 46. Retribution as a means of “asserting the status of the person who has been wronged….”

7 Gladiator associated with animals – often a “beast master”.

8 J. B. Poynton, “The Public Games of the Romans,” 7:20 (1938) 85. “An unarmed criminal was exposed to lions or bears.”

9 “I will find you.”

10 Blair,  The State of Slavery, 68. Proper burials for slaves of the wealthy.


End file.
